


Welcome to New Elm City

by Oggser



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Nonsexually Aged-up Characters, Temporary Character Death, Threatening Mystery Antagonist Man (Who Is It No One Knows), characters use superhero aliases for a while, goldenhoard and bill seacaster are there but theyre not very important, plenty of fight scenes (especially later on), takes inspiration from a bunch of different superhero media, there are going to be more important relationships later but there aren't any right now so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27358834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oggser/pseuds/Oggser
Summary: Before the train stopped, Fabian was dreaming about the ocean.Fabian doesn’t remember his dreams often, he never has. He says he’s too busy making them a reality to have them when he sleeps-- which is somewhat self-congratulatory, vaguely inspirational, and above all: literal nonsense.But, all in all, that’s kind of what Fabian Seacaster is. Having been born to a fabulously wealthy family consisting of an ex-vigilante and the former Number One Hero of New Elm City, every goal he could possibly have is easy for him to reach compared to pitifully average civilians.And obviously, on his nineteenth birthday, Fabian proved this by moving to New Elm City in order to become a hero. Because Fabian Seacaster doesn’t operate on the logic of civilians.Fabian Seacaster, son of the formerNumber One Hero, becomes a superhero in the illustrious New Elm City. As you can imagine, a lot happens.(updates whenever!)
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27





	Welcome to New Elm City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fabian Seacaster's first day in New Elm City.

Before the train stopped, Fabian was dreaming about the ocean.

Fabian doesn’t remember his dreams often, he never has. He says he’s too busy making them a reality to have them when he sleeps-- which is somewhat self-congratulatory, vaguely inspirational, and above all: literal nonsense.

But, all in all, that’s kind of what Fabian Seacaster is. Having been born to a fabulously wealthy family consisting of an ex-vigilante and the former Number One Hero of New Elm City, every goal he could possibly have is easy for him to reach compared to pitifully average civilians.

And obviously, on his nineteenth birthday, Fabian proved this by moving to New Elm City in order to become a hero. Because Fabian Seacaster doesn’t operate on the logic of civilians.

He’s barely off the train when he hears a sea shanty coming from his pocket, and he immediately knows it’s from his father.

He rolls his eyes fondly, swipes to answer, and pulls it up to his ear.

“Fabian, me boy!” His father’s gruff voice comes tinnily through the phone, “Yer phone’s tellin’ me yer in the city-- everything okay? Have a safe trip?”

While his father is talking he suppresses a yawn, “Yes Papá, it was fine-- dreadfully boring, even, which, now that I think about it might be a little less than fine? What I’m saying is that nothing happened, basically.”

(Fabian doesn’t mention that he slept most of the train ride. If his father knew that, he’d go into one of his tirades about how a hero must ‘always be on the lookout for petty criminals to teach a lesson to.’ It’s great advice, obviously, he’s just not in the mood.)

“Ah, that’s just too bad… In my day, you could barely grab a bite to eat without seein’ a villain to give a good sockin’ to! ’Twas splendid, me boy! There was never a boring moment! No matter what you were doin’-- it was honestly a bit annoyin’ sometimes, but that’s just the price fer glory, me boy!”

William Seacaster (A.K.A Bill Seacaster A.K.A “Riptide” A.K.A Former Number One Hero of NEC, Riptide) is a man of many controversies, and is generally considered to be a “disgraced Number One Hero,” whatever that means. He retired when Fabian was born nineteen years ago. Out of his twelve years of heroism, he was only number one for a single year before retiring.

Though his father’s reputation has been tattered by the jealous, hateful crones of New Elm City, Fabian Seacaster is determined to rise above and become a great hero, and nothing could possibly stop him.

Fabian chats some more with his father. He steps off the train, drags his suitcase along, and immediately has to stop.

“Fabian, me boy?”

“Sorry, Papá, it’s just-- there’s a crowd blocking the exit.” Fabian squints, “I’m… I’m going to find out what’s going on, hold on just a minute.”

The crowd is full and mostly stagnant, without many people moving around or leaving. Fabian asks a civilian what’s going on and immediately solves the mystery.

“It’s a villain, Papá,” He holds the phone to his ear, “Apparently there’s a very strong one attacking the street around the station… so they’re not letting anyone in until it’s… taken care of.” Fabian says, the smirk on his face leaking into his voice like an oil spill.

“Seems like you already know what to do, boy.” Bill chuckles grimly.

“Of course Papá-- I just have to get there… would you happen to know anything about escaping a secured train station, by any chance?”

“Hah! Of course I do! Who do you take me fer?” He says, laughing, “Just sneak through a window in the bathroom an’ leave yer suitcase in a stall-- make sure ta lock it though, those lost-and-found cretins are like ravens, always on the lookout fer somethin’ to pawn off to the public. S’dreadful, I tell ye, absolutely dreadful!”

“Oh, absolutely, Papá, we all know the lost-and-found is just an excuse for poor people to take things that rich people earned through hard work and money, it’s common knowledge…”

Fabian huffs, “But, ah, I have to fight whoever’s causing traffic, so I have to go, love you, bye--”

“I love you so much, my darling boy! You’re so much like yer father, y’know that? Your loyalty, your bravery, yer good looks-- ye get it all from me, boy! … Well, maybe yer looks are more yer mother!” Bill cackles and Fabian knows that he’s fully belly-laughing wherever he is.

“Yes, yes, I know, I know,” he drones warmly, “But I actually have to go now, so bye Papá, I love you.”

“Love you too, me boy.” Fabian taps the big red button and makes a beeline for the bathroom.

\--------------- 

Climbing through the bathroom window of a train station was surprisingly more difficult than he expected it to be for a lot of different reasons (most of them are just finding a way through without breaking it), but he’s agile, strong, flexible, and wearing a specially-made costume, so he makes it to the other side in only slightly more pain than he was before.

When he’s done dusting himself off from the dirty windowsill (seriously when did they last clean that thing), he’s struck by the emptiness of the roads. All he hears is the clamor of distant car alarms.

And the much closer sounds of a fight-- voices, shouting, and something that’s probably the sound of powers being used. Fabian smirks and immediately scales the wall to the roof of a nearby building. He jumps from rooftop to rooftop, doing completely unnecessary flips that no one except himself could possibly know about.

Some amount of rooftops later and he can see the fight pretty clearly. He waits until he’s almost next to it and hides behind the raised rim of the roof to collect intel.

There are three heroes fighting one villain, so he must be pretty strong, however the several unconscious, well-dressed people on the ground say that he didn’t come alone. There’s no one else there except a few far-off police officers and a reporter in a helicopter.

Fabian doesn’t recognize anyone, but the heroes are clearly not terrible if they’re handling a villain that caused this big of a ruckus.

He takes a closer look at them-- the one that immediately catches his eye is a tall fair-skinned woman in a decorative blue costume and a masquerade mask, wearing her long blonde hair in a ponytail. She shouts something, waves her hands elegantly, and a semi-transparent blue pillar launches one of the other heroes at the villain, which makes Fabian chuckle softly. God, he’s so ready to be fighting villains and kissing women.

The one who just got flung through the air is a tall, sort of lanky figure wearing an advanced helmet. If someone had asked Fabian to describe what a futuristic knight would look like, it’d probably look something like him. He’s wearing metallic armor over some kind of tight body-suit, which lets Fabian see his significant muscle tone.

The armored man comes crashing down, swinging a hammer over his head, but the villain’s scaled hand easily swats him away like a fruit fly, and the third hero shouts and goes running after him as he collides with a building.

The last hero is a woman of moderate-height with a stocky frame, most of her silhouette covered by a white ‘‘hood’’ that billows and folds so much it’s more like she’s wrapped a blanket around her neck. She has a light tan that’s accentuated by the stark white of her costume and her orange hair, giving her a very warm look like a campfire.

She runs strangely and carries a big stick as she kneels beside the hero that just got flung. She reaches out to touch him but gets interrupted by a jet of fire coming for her -- something that’s barely stopped by a translucent blue screen summoned by the blonde girl, who doesn’t seem very happy about having to save them.

The villain isn’t like anyone Fabian’s seen in person.

He’s six-and-a-half feet tall at least, and probably twice as broad as the average person. His body is covered in red scales with a face that looks more like a dragon than anything else. He wears a perfectly-fitted business suit without any tears or stains in a way that accentuates his (excessively) top-heavy figure, and carries himself on clawed feet with an air of professionalism and class.

This is a villain.

Fabian is ‘‘woke’’ enough to know that a lot of villains are just people going through a rough time. Sometimes that time is rough enough to trigger their latent Empowered genes and make them throw their powers at anything they can see. (He’s very glad his situation is nothing like theirs.)

This man is nothing like them. Fabian can tell he knows exactly what he’s doing; pure ambition radiates out from him like sunlight.

The villain snarls at the masked girl, then lunges at the orange-haired woman and the armored man like he’s switching between key frames, blurring with speed-- another blue wall appears between them, cracking from the impact.

Fabian focuses.

The dragon growls, “I know you kids can’t handle me on your own, but can you please be a little less annoying about it?!” He punctuates his sentence with a swipe of his clawed hand, shattering the translucent wall.

“N-no,” The man in armor stutters, quickly pulling out what looks to be some kind of high-tech pistol and firing it at the dragon, who shrugs it off like it's a nerf dart.

The redhead responds to this by knocking her big stick into the dragon’s head with a two-handed strike, shouting “Seriously, Doc?!” and grabbing his hand to run off.

‘Doc’ follows along pretty well, like he wasn’t just flung into a concrete building, (Fabian takes note of that,) but he’s not fast enough to evade a big rock that the suited villain throws at him-- surprisingly it’s not a blue wall that stops it, but a thick column of blue that catches the rock before crumbling.

This is exactly what the dragon wanted. As soon as he sees the blue light he pounces at the blonde girl with his mouth open and crackling-- she turns with widened eyes and rolls away out of instinct, only barely avoiding the fire coming from his mouth.

“Hm,” He muses, “Good eye, young lady.”

She’s red-faced and panting, (Fabian thinks her power probably takes a lot of energy to use this intensely,) but she keeps it together, prim and proper. “I’ve been told.”

The dragon narrows his eyes and starts to pace, and so does she, and eventually they’re circling each other, fully focused on the other’s actions.

“You know, those two must be preparing for something. I wouldn’t call it very wise to ignore them like this, Goldenhoard,” says the girl in blue. (She has some kind of English accent that Fabian can’t place; whatever it is, it sounds posh.)

‘Goldenhoard’ laughs at that, “What would they do? Heal me to death? Shoot me with their laser pointers? Listen to yourself, you’re telling me to look out for them, and I’m supposed to believe they’re not helpless? No, no, no, I think we all know that you and I are the only real threats here.”

The girl tuts her lips, “Well, I don’t disagree, but that’s quite a rude thing to say.”

He smiles, “I’m a supervillain, and you’re complaining about my manners?”

“Ugh, it sounds so fake when you actually call yourself a supervillain,” she rolls her eyes, “It’s like when your parents call themselves your parents when they’re scolding you-- It’s just, we get it, you’re above me, or whatever-- it’s so annoying.”

He makes a face and stops in his tracks, right in front of the building Fabian is on.

“... How old are you--”

Before he can finish his sentence Fabian’s foot meets the back of his head in an impressively acrobatic, flashy air-attack.

The girl shouts, “What the hell?!”

Goldenhoard (he’s pretty sure that’s his name) shouts, stumbles back, and reaches for the back of his head. That would have downed an average person, but this isn’t anyone you could call average.

He doesn’t have as much to say as the girl in blue; he just roars, springing at Fabian with embers in his mouth. Fabian grabs the collapsible staff from his belt and lets it loose-- it jabs right into the broad underside of his jaw and forces his mouth closed.

Fabian smirks.

“You brat!” Goldenhoard takes a few more swings at him, but Fabian manages to get by with only a cut on his arm thanks to his swift, graceful dodging. (Ow.)

His opponent is breathing heavily now, which is a very good sign. Fabian takes this as an invitation to go on the offensive. He jabs Goldenhoard several times in quick succession, then holds the staff by its end and swings it two-handed at his head. While he recovers, Fabian sweeps his legs and practically leaps to stand on his chest as soon as he hits the ground.

Fabian stomps his foot on Goldenhoard’s neck. Hard. Goldenhoard tries to breathe his flames at him, but the gas won’t ignite in his throat (probably because of the foot).

“Too many lifts, not enough leg presses,” Fabian says, and slams his staff into Goldenhoard’s head.

From some combination of overexertion, lack of oxygen, and maybe a concussion or two, Goldenhoard passes out.

Hurrying, Fabian takes a pair of Null Cuffs from his belt, painstakingly flips Goldenhoard so he’s face down, and puts them around his wrists. Now, if he wakes up anytime soon, he won’t be much of a problem.

Fabian puts one foot on top of Goldenhoard and assumes a heroic pose, sheathing his staff. He waits until the helicopter gets close enough to do what he’s been wanting to do for as long as he can remember.

“I… am The Torrent! … Son of Riptide! … And I’m here… to be GREAT!”

He closes his eyes and basks in the awe of everyone around him, coating him like moonlight.

“… Like, piracy?”

The voice is coming from the redheaded woman with the giant hood-- Fabian gives her an incredulous look.

“W-- what? No! I mean, kind of, yes, but-- no, no of course not, it’s-- it’s a kind of wave! It’s a very, very big wave!”

“Well, it’s also kind of a crime, so I dunno, maybe you should rethink your alias?”

Fabian scoffs, stepping off Goldenhoard’s unconscious body. “What’s yours, if mine is so awful?”

The hero stands up straight, smiling brightly, “I’m Brightside!” She holds her big stick a little tighter. “I’m, like, a sidekick. For money.”

Brightside pulls something out of a pocket on her bodysuit and hands it to Fabian.

“This is a business card.” He blanches, “You’re a superhero and you’re giving out business cards.”

“Of course I am! Not everyone can take out Empowered that big without breaking a sweat, dude. Try that with my powers.”

Skimming the card it seems like this “Brightside” has healing powers, and because of her lack of combative ability, she’s relegated herself to playing support. Not a terrible decision, honestly, just… debasing. Embarrassing. Saddening.

Getting a closer look at her, she seems pretty young, only three or four years older than Fabian. The more he thinks about it, the more her humility is actually pretty impressive. Heroes aren’t generally humble people, especially the younger ones, so maybe there’s more to this ‘Brightside’ that meets the eye.

“Oh, yeah, you guysss!” Brightside calls out, “Introduce yourself to the new hero!”

The guy in armor doesn’t budge, but the girl with the masquerade mask trudges right up to Fabian.

“Who the hell are you?” she hisses.

“I-- didn’t you hear me? I’m The Torrent, son of Riptide, and I’m here to be great, that should be everything you need to know!”

“You just took out a villain that’s been terrorizing this city for months. Three established heroes at the same time couldn’t beat him, and-- and you just hit him with your stick until he fell over!”

Fabian smirks, giving her a look. “It runs in the family.”

She groans, “There’s no way you’re actually Riptide’s son, don’t even try that bullshit!” (Swearing in her accent sounds very nice.)

Brightside twiddles with her big stick, “Is this a good time to mention that I have no idea who Riptide is?”

His attention snaps to Brightside, scowling, “… Who-- who doesn’t know who Riptide is?! My father was the Number One Hero in this city nineteen years ago, and I won’t let you just--” Fabian pinches the bridge of his nose, “Look! None of you have to believe anything, you just have to accept that it’s true!”

The girl in blue groans. “That’s what believing is.”

Fabian turns to the blonde girl, “Who are you anyway, miss?”

“Her name’s Fort. I think she’s a cheerleader in her downtime.” Brightside answers in her place.

“I’m The Blue Fortress, and I’m not a cheerleader,” she says, more tired than angry.

The Blue Fortress is probably around Fabian’s age, and only about three inches shorter than him. Now that he’s getting a closer look at her, he’s starting to notice the details. She has a small nose, a light smattering of freckles, and piercing blue eyes that glare at him from inside her mask.

“And, uh, over there is Doctor Astonishing.” Brightside points at the man in armor, who’s currently talking to a reporter. “He’s shy.”

“But he’s also the Number Two Hero’s sidekick. We thought she’d be showing up here today, but then you came along.” The Blue Fortress side-eyes Fabian.

“… Why would she be here?” Fabian squints.

“Oh, yeah, she and the Number One were the only ones we figured could take Goldenhoard,” says Brightside.

Fort crosses her arms, “We thought Concordian and Hot Girl were the only ones who could beat Goldenhoard, but apparently we _vastly_ overestimated his abilities.”

“Uh, he might just be really good,” Brightside says, “I didn’t even see him use his powers.”

Fabian makes a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, “Who says I need powers?”

They both go quiet for a second.

Brightside goes starry-eyed, “You’re kidding me!” She turns over to the armored guy and shouts, “Doc! The guy who beat Goldenhoard doesn’t even have any powers!”

Doc’s far-away, boyish voice calls back, voice raised. “What did you say?!”

“I said, this guy’s not Empowered!”

“Oh! Okay!”

“That doesn’t make sense,” The Blue Fortress’s brows furrow, “How do you expect us to believe you’re Riptide’s son if you aren’t even Empowered?!”

Fabian rolls his eyes, “Because… I am? You’re not guaranteed to be Empowered just because your parents are. It’s basic biology, Fort.”

She sighs, rubbing her temples with her fingers. (Is she wearing blue nail polish?)

“Look, I don’t know who you are, and frankly, I don’t think I care, but I suppose I should thank you for taking out Goldenhoard. He’s been a thorn in our sides for a while, and… I suppose I should be happy he’s going to rot in prison. So, thank you.”

“… Are you not? Happy he’s to be incarcerated, I mean.”

“I am. What I’m not happy with is the circumstances.”

Fabian opens his mouth to speak, but a column of translucent blue immediately launches her into the sky.

He rolls his eyes, smiling wryly. Perhaps, one day, he’ll be fighting villains and kissing women at the exact same time.

\--------------- 

The hardest part of Fabian’s day is getting his suitcase back from the train station.

He hadn’t accounted for the fact that heroes usually leave their average, non-suit clothes in private places, so he had to sneak back into the train station (with a lot more people potentially watching) and stealthily change back into his average clothes, and then pretend like he didn’t just incarcerate a dragon man and bring his suitcase back to his apartment.

The movers he’d paid had done most of the heavy lifting, obviously, now all he had to do was unpack his suitcase.

And he would have. He really would have, if something else didn’t catch his attention first.

Laying at Fabian’s feet is an envelope. Its position is almost lazy, but that’s not the right word. Maybe it’s hurried. Whoever delivered this probably just shoved it under his door and went along with their day.

Which means whoever gave this to him doesn’t have the key to his mailbox. Definitely not a mailman.

Fabian picks up the envelope and lets his suitcase rest against a wall somewhere-- he has a feeling that this is important. (Are bills and taxes really that bad? He hasn’t even unpacked his suitcase yet and someone’s already breathing down his neck.)

Using his letter-opener, Fabian opens the envelope.

It’s written in practiced, sort of girlish handwriting, the kind that’s almost like cursive without actually being cursive. It reminds Fabian of high school girls, but a bit more practical and legible than they were.

_“Dear Fabian Seacaster,_

_Please come to the second floor of the abandoned office building on 6819, Half Moon Lane, (Office 8) at 10 PM tonight. If you don’t, I’ll reveal your identity as the Torrent and your father William’s identity as Riptide to the general public. Arrive in costume, for your own sake. (Because there will be other heroes there. Not for any creepy reasons I promise.)_

_Sorry about this,_

_A concerned onlooker._

_P.S. Sorry again. Very sorry about the trouble, very, very sorry, but it’s extremely important.”_

…

…

…

Fabian Seacaster has been a hero in New Elm City for less than twelve hours, and his secret identity is already at risk.

He can’t tell if the smile on his face is a stress response or a result of excitement. Judging by how wide his eyes feel, probably both.

Weighing the options in either hand, both of them… well, they have their ups and downs, he supposes. If he refuses to go, then there’s a chance that whoever this “concerned onlooker” is, they’ll flush his family’s reputation down the toilet along with his chances of ever being a successful hero down the toilet, and possibly endangering both of his parents lives as a result of that.

If he goes, then, at worst, he has to fight a few villains.

What a difficult choice that he must make. Whatever will he choose.

\--------------- 

The new hardest part of Fabian’s day is not dying of boredom before 9:45 rolls around.

He’s decided that, since his phone says it’s about a ten minute walk, that if he leaves at 9:45 then he’ll be a little bit early and catch any would-be evildoers off guard.

So after that’s done with, the problem is that it isn’t 9:45 yet. Fabian woke up around 2:30, got in his suit around 3 o’clock, left the scene of battle by 4:30, and got home at around 6 o’clock. That leaves about three hours and forty-five minutes of wandering his apartment in his heroic spandex, jumping around with his collapsible staff (and playing on his phone, obviously).

The upside to this is that as soon as the clock hits 9:45, Fabian is ready.

He takes to the roofs of nearby buildings and jumps from rooftop to rooftop, following his phone’s GPS for instructions, which probably looks very stupid but it’s not like he has a choice here.

The abandoned building the letter was talking about isn’t that hard to spot. The level of cleanliness actually surprises Fabian, it’s probably a recently abandoned building if anything, but it’s still very much abandoned.

It’s also sort of isolated, which is rare in the city; there aren’t many buildings around it, and while the grass isn’t exactly healthy, it’s still there.

Fabian smirks to himself and stealthily enters through the back door. As he walks in he checks the time on his phone: 9:57 PM. The perfect time, not early or late.

He puts his phone away and pulls his staff off of his belt. In its collapsed form, it just barely fits in the palm of his hand, ready to spring out at a moment’s notice. As he walks through the office building he cautiously looks around, considering every possible place a villain could ambush him-- wherever they’re hiding, they’re not going to get the drop on him.

It’s about a full minute later when he realizes that there’s no one trying to pounce on him and he walks up the stairs. Office eight is easy enough to find because the lights are on. (What kind of abandoned building has electricity?)

His staff shoots into full size as he slams the door open, ready for anything that could come his way.

… Only to find a room of three people. Sitting.

“… Uh, who’s he?” says a very small and very green man in a trench coat, clearly trying to whisper. Fabian thinks he startled him with his dramatic entrance.

“That’s-- that’s, he’s, uh, he’s The Torrent,” Doctor Astonishing says, “Riptide’s his Dad, I think.”

“Waitwaitwaitwaitwait-- Riptide? Seriously? That guy had kids?!” A woman in a limbless bodysuit with fishnet stockings and literal flames for hair is staring at him like he has two heads-- which is ironic, because she’s the one with horns and a tail and flames for hair.

“No, he didn’t have _kids_ , I’m his _only_ child and--” Fabian blinks, “Actually, what the hell are you people doing here?!”

“Well, we, uh, we all got a letter, and it told us to meet here, and it… it uh… we had to because if we didn’t then--”

“Doc, he-- he probably got the letter too, it’s… fine. It’s fine.”

Ah. The letter did say that there were going to be other heroes here. He kind of forgot a few hours ago.

“But… why are all of you here already?” Fabian grumbles, “I wanted to be first.”

“… Cuz we didn’t want our identities leaked, obviously?” The lady with fire for hair speaks up, “Villains aren’t exactly known for their leniency. For all we know, we get here a minute late and the entire city knows my name. How long have you been a hero for, dude?”

Doctor Astonishing speaks quietly. “Ma’am, it’s… today’s his first day.”

“Oh! Well, in that case, good instinct on getting here early, but that’s pretty standard, so you won’t get many brownie points for it.” Her head twists to Doctor Astonishing. “And you-- how many times do I have to tell you to call me Hot Girl? I’m not old enough to be a “ma’am”, man! I’m in my twenties!”

“… I’m not… Like I said, th-there’s like… a connotation there.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s why I picked it!”

Fabian processes what he just heard, “Wait, you’re Hot Girl? The Number Two Hero in New Elm City?”

“… Yyyyeeessss? Did you not recognize me? My brand is pretty distinct, like, y’know, horns, tail, fire for hair…”

“You have to excuse me,” Fabian puts a hand on his chest, “I’m from a small town a couple-hundred miles west of here, I’m not really privy on big city heroes. We’re all far too rich to deal with many criminals over there. Lovely place, but a terrible environment for a would-be hero.” His hometown is full of big houses and below-ground pools-- he’s going to miss Yorkville, he just knows it.

“Rich kid, huh.” Hot Girl scowls. “Sounds like Riptide.”

“He also… beat… Goldenhoard.” Doctor Astonishing makes a noise somewhere between a shaky exhale and a chuckle.

Hot Girl’s eyes go wide. She stares at Fabian, looking him up and down. “How?”

Fabian collects his thoughts. “Well, I, uh… I jumped from a roof and kicked him in the back of the head… I stopped him from breathing fire with my staff, then I dodged his claws, swept his legs, cut off his oxygen with my foot, hit him in the head, and then he passed out.”

Hot Girl was listening intently that entire time. “You didn’t even use your powers?”

Fabian shrugs smugly, “I don’t have powers to use.”

Her flaming hair shifts as she looks back and forth from Doctor Astonishing to Fabian.

“This kid rules, Doc! Why didn’t you tell me he rules?! Now I’m gonna look bad!”

Hot Girl is about what you’d expect from a traditional heroine. She’s somewhere around five-foot-seven and the color of her eyebrows suggests that her hair is usually a sort of mid-brown tone when it isn’t made of fire. Fabian would put her at about her mid-twenties, and she carries a youthful spirit that belies a grim maturity, sort of like a mother in grad school.

Fabian chuckles, “No worries, you’re the Number Two Hero, I have to respect that.”

The small green man in the trench coat and a surgical mask coughs obviously into his hand. He says, “I’m… Nightstalker. I… stalk. At night. Criminals, I mean. I stalk criminals. At night.”

“Why are you doing that to your voice?” Doc says.

“Doing what?”

Fabian crosses his arms “You put on a voice, and I think you _think_ it sounds cool, but it really just sounds like you smoke three packs a day.”

Nightstalker shifts his eyes back and forth, “… I-- I just want you guys to think I’m cool because you’re all way cooler than me and I don’t even have a costume but it’s-- it’s really not working and none of us can leave so I’m really just making it awkward.” He shrugs nervously, eyes practically bugging out of his head. “Oh no.”

Nightstalker is probably around four-and-a-half feet tall. He has green skin, big, black, slitted eyes, and messy dark hair under a newsboy cap.

The mask on his face covers up most of it, but Fabian doesn’t actually see much of a bump under it-- does this guy even have a nose under there? His trench coat is about two sizes too big for him, give or take, and lightly grazes the floor wherever he walks.

He looks like he’s a kid dressed up for a wedding under his coat, wearing dark jeans that could pass for slacks, sneakers and a button-up shirt with a black tie. His frame is very slight, and could probably be considered sort of underweight-- because of his mutations, his age is hard to guess.

So, Fabian asks him the one question on his mind, “How… old are you--”

The door opens again.

“Hey, sorry I’m late, I was at my girlfriend’s place and like, I knew I should leave but really it’s just like, I didn’t want to, y’know--” Brightside stops in her tracks.

“… Oh! Hey! I know you people!” She smiles. “What’s up, Nightstalker? I haven’t seen you in while, man!

“It’s been, ah… fine, I think?” Nightstalker’s voice goes to it’s normal, cracking tone.

“Cool! The rest of you?”

A murmur of ‘yeah it’s been fine’ falls over the other three.

“Uh, dope!” She says. “So, what are we doing here? I’m really confused.”

Fabian’s about to answer when he hears a knock at the door.

He turns his attention to the door and watches someone awkwardly slide through and close the door behind them.

It’s a young girl. She has shoulder-length blonde hair, pale skin, and a very oversized denim jacket. Her eyes are sort of big, but her irises are… cloudy, for lack of a better word. They remind Fabian of when a blind character is animated, and their eyes are colored very lightly. Across the bridge of her nose are several light freckles that make Fabian think of The Blue Fortress. She’s not tall, but not incredibly short, probably no less than five-foot-four, and she has a build like a two-by-four.

“Er,” the girl says, “hi.”

“Y-you should be in your costume,” says Doctor Astonishing, “it said so on the letter.”

“I, um. I’m aware. I know. I… wrote them.”

“Ah, I see.” Fabian immediately grabs his staff.

“Sorry! Sorry, sorry! I promise I’m not, like, a superfan or anything, I-I, between you and me I don’t actually care about superheroes, but…”

“But…?” Hot Girl says.

“I… had. To.”

“You had to.” Says Fabian.

“I had to.”

There’s silence for a second.

“Okay, listen, I… I know it sounds really weird, I know, but it’s really hard to explain and I’m really trying to put this together in a way that doesn’t sound totally crazy and I-- it’s hard! It’s really hard to do that, so please give me a second? Please?”

The girl takes several quiet, shallow breaths, like a drowning child.

Fabian sighs, “Alright, fine, we’ll give you a second, but honestly, we should be leaving and getting back to our lives right about now, so if you’d be so kind, could you make it quick?”

She looks right into Fabian’s eyes, and he realizes the depth of the clouds in them. He can’t even see her pupils.

“Ah… my name is… Adaine Abernant,” Adaine twiddles with her hands as she speaks, “I-I’m Empowered, and… specifically, I’m a precognate.”

Doctor Astonishing says “I see, I see, I get it… what does that mean?”

“She can see the future.” Nightstalker blanches, unamused. “It’s a relatively common power.”

“Yes, that.” Adaine says, “sometimes my powers let me see the answers to problems, or they show me… glimpses of what might happen in a few decades, or-- or they tell me what’s going to happen if I do something specific. But, uh… most of the time, I just see tiny moments. Like, what’s going to happen tomorrow, or something like that, or something that’s going on a few seconds from now.”

Adaine inhales deeply. “So… the reason I’ve brought you here, is because… last month, I got… the biggest vision I’ve ever gotten. Ever. And-- and it told me that… there’s a conspiracy going on.”

Nightstalker squints. “I mean, yeah. That’s not news, do you know what a government is?”

“No! I mean-- yesIknowwhatagovernmentis, but this isn’t something we can ignore, it’s-- I don’t know the details, but I know that if you five don’t do something about it, it’s not just the city that’ll be compromised! It could be the country too! Or the world!”

Adaine turns away, looking at the floor, “The vision… it… it told me that… when Riptide’s son comes to New Elm City, that if all of you don’t work together to uncover…” Adaine makes air quotes, “‘the secret’ of the city, and stop the conspiracy, that a lot of people are going to die. You’re all… all of you are heroes, you don’t want that, right?”

Brightside wiggles her big stick absently, “Okay, I’m down.” She looks at Adaine. “But why us? Like, us, specifically.”

Adaine scratches the back of her head, “Well… in my visions, you all were the only ones that were… consistently on the side of good, no matter what. You’re the five safest options.”

Hot Girl sits on a desk, “So that’s why we’re all such different kinds of heroes, right? Like, I’m the Number Two Hero, and I’m pretty sure Nightstalker isn’t even publicly listed as a hero yet.”

“Uh… yes.” Adaine says.

“I-I don’t know about this,” Doctor Astonishing puts a hand on his helmet, “this all seems really sketchy… hey,” he turns to Adaine, “how old are you?”

“I’m… I’m fifteen.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda suspect!” Nightstalker leans back against the wall, crossing his arms, “How do we know if this isn’t just an excuse for this girl to talk to her favorite heroes? Superfans are pretty weird, right? She could be one of them!”

“Well… she did kinda know our addresses, and our secret identities. If she didn’t have powers, then she probably couldn’t have learned, right?” Brightside says.

He responds. “That’s not a guarantee! Like, this abandoned building has electricity in this one room, she could have, like, really powerful parents, or… something.” Nightstalker looks uncharacteristically shy, “I-I’m just saying, we… we shouldn’t believe her so easily.”

Adaine shrinks, “I-I know how this looks, but-- but, I--”

“Hey! Hey, hey, kid,” Hot Girl says, hushed, rushing to her side “I, uh… I know you’re not trying to hurt us, but… this looks pretty weird from the other side, y’know?”

Adaine nods, “Yeah… yeah, I know…” she takes a deep breath and looks up at the others in the room.

“Um…” she starts, “if… if I proved that I’m a precognate, then… then would that be enough for you to believe me?”

Nightstalker blinks and then shrugs dramatically. “I _guess?”_

“Uh… yeah, that’d be cool.” Doctor Astonishing says.

“Okay. Okay! That’s good! So, uh, if I give each of you a prediction, and they come true… then you’ll know I’m telling the truth, right?” Adaine’s smile is fragile, like she’s made of glass.

Nightstalker somehow shrugs even harder, but Doctor Astonishing responds with “… Yup. That-- that sounds fine, yeah.

Fabian butts in, “Sure, sure, but don’t make them vague and simple like “you’re going to wake up tomorrow,” or something, because yeah, no shit I’m going to wake up tomorrow, God, I’m not a squirrel.”

Adaine nods at that hesitantly, and Brightside smiles and says, “Very specific, Torrent.”

“… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Fabian, thinking about the fortune teller he beat up when he was nine.

“Okay, okay, how quickly can you get some predictions in?” Nightstalker says, looking like he’s not having a great time.

“It-- it won’t take long, just give me a few minutes. Maybe five.” Adaine responds.

With no warning, the cloudiness in Adaine’s eyes starts to move and shift like fog in the wind, swirling in her irises until they reveal the eye of the storm: her round, almost white pupils, filling with clarity. Adaine closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and when they open again they’re just as light and foggy as they were before.

“Oh, she’s totally Empowered.” Hot Girl smirks, crossing her arms with a smug look in her eyes.

“But, uh, we still don’t know if she’s a precognate?”

Adaine breathes a deep sigh of relief. “Okay. I’ve got one.”

She clears her throat, pointing, “Doctor Astonishing, tomorrow morning you’re going to spill some milk on your counter while you’re putting it in your coffee.”

“… Alright?” He mumbles.

She closes her eyes again, when they flutter open Fabian can see traces of her pupil being covered, “The Torrent, tonight, you’ll get a threatening voicemail on your phone.”

“Oh, God damn it.”

Adaine closes her eyes again, forcing them shut much harder this time, visibly sweating. “Ahh… Nightstalker, tomorrow at around noon, your mum’s going to get you McRonald’s…?”

“His mom?” Brightside echoes, then turns to Nightstalker, “How old are you supposed to be again?”

He coughs, “I’m, uh, t-twenty… twenty-eight.”

“I-I think he’s seventeen,” says Adaine, ignoring when he swears under his breath.

She’s visibly tired by this point, pinching the bridge of her nose with a deep furrow in her brow, clouds shifting in her eyes until her face relaxes. “… Hot Girl, tomorrow morning, your…” Adaine’s face squinches again, “you’ll meet a fan where you… don’t… expect to, for lack of a better word.”

“Ooo, ominous,” Hot Girl cackles.

“And… Brightside.”

“You don’t have to do me,” she says, “I believe you.”

“No, no, I’m going to,” says Adaine, determined.

While the last prediction was obviously tiring, this one looks almost painful for Adaine, she trembles lightly, sweat on her brow with an occasional grunt of discomfort.

She breathes a sigh of relief, “Okay, I… think this is important, uh… tomorrow afternoon, you’re going to have a fight with a bunch of criminals-- they’re all wearing yellow, and it’s… the outcome is… I don’t know… it’s really… confusing…?” Adaine rubs her temples.

Brightside’s eyes light up for a second, “Oh. Don’t worry about it, I’m picking up what you’re puttin’ down.”

“A-are you?”

“Yup!” Brightside smiles.

“And that’s everyone?” Fabian asks without skipping a beat.

“Y-yeah.” Adaine says. “If I’m right, come back here, same time tomorrow? I-I really can’t express to you how important it is that you believe me.”

“Sure, yeah, but are you, like, okay? That looked, like, _painful_.” Hot Girl asks.

“I’m fine,” Adaine responds, “I just have a headache, I’ll… drink some water, or… take some aspirin. I’ll be okay.”

Silence.

“ Soooo… we can leave?” Nightstalker mutters awkwardly.

“Uh. Yes. You can leave.” Adaine shuffles out the way of the door. “Sorry.”

Fabian stretches, “Well, that’s my queue, see you all tomorrow, I’ll make sure to save a villain for each of you.” He smirks.

“Uh, don’t do that! If you can take all of them yourself it’d-- that’d be good! For us, at least!” Doctor Astonishing calls out after him.

“I know! I was joking!” Fabian rolls his eyes.

To be completely honest, this is not how he envisioned his first day as a hero being. He didn’t think the other heroes would be so… the way that they are, either. But, well, the more incompetent the other heroes are, the more glory he gets to keep to himself, so that’s fine by him.

There’s no possible universe where Fabian Seacaster doesn’t become at least as great of a hero as his father. Fabian is more sure of that than anything.

\--------------- 

When Fabian gets home he’s already out of his hero costume and his first order of business is to put it away. While he’s putting it away he realizes that he never actually unpacked his suitcase, and most of his good clothes that the movers didn’t take care of are still in that thing.

Fabian groans and drags his suitcase into his room, opening it up. Directly after he does this, he realizes that he doesn’t know how to fold clothes (that’s a maid thing), so he just rolls them into tiny balls of fabric and puts them in the drawers of his dresser.

This process sucks, so he decides to do it later.

He hops into bed, fully clothed, and plugs his phone into its charger. The screen lights up as the notifications show, and Fabian notices that he’s missed a call.

Bill, his father, is the only one who ever calls him, and he knows that that’s not his number. It doesn’t say “scam likely”, so he figures that it couldn’t hurt to listen to the voicemail.

Fabian plays the voicemail and holds the phone up to his ear.

The voice on the other side of the phone is masculine, almost boyish, leaking with a confidence that almost startles Fabian with how absolute it is. It sounds like someone who’s never been wrong in his life-- on a completely different level than the average person.

But the most striking part of the voice is the underlying sense of boredom. Like they’re not even attempting to sound like they care.

The voice crackles on the phone’s speaker.

“Hey. I know you probably don’t know me, considering how you don’t know much about this place, but… I wanted to say hey. See how you’re settling into the new place, Torrent.”

Fabian feels his pulse quicken.

“I just wanted to thank you, y’know, for uh, incarcerating Goldenhoard, or however you said it. To be honest, I really didn’t need him around-- he was getting pretty annoying, all things considered, so he was totally bringing the potential down.”

What the hell does that mean?

“But… really, I’m just calling to let you know what’s up. Your dad’s a disgrace to our city, and you’re riding on the coattails of what little positive reputation he has left. That’s pretty pathetic, but y’know what’s even worse? You move here with no warning, no research, and better yet, _no powers_ , with nothing to your name but a shameful excuse for a Number One Hero as a dad, and you think you can call yourself a hero? It’d be _funny_ if it didn’t _piss me off_ so much.”

How did this guy get his number?

“So, uh… yeah. Long story short, don’t expect to live here very long. For one reason or another.”

Beep.

…

…

…

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't clear;
> 
> The Blue Fortress: Aelwyn  
> Hot Girl: Fig  
> Brightside: Kristen  
> Doctor Astonishing: Gorgug  
> Nightstalker: Riz  
> Goldenhoard: Goldenhoard  
> Adaine: Adaine  
> Concordian: ???

**Author's Note:**

> check out my [twitter](https://twitter.com/notoriousmasc) and my [tumblr](https://raghsimp.tumblr.com/) if this fic butters your eggroll


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